


Eyes Completely Open

by Lena86



Series: We Could Be Heroes [2]
Category: Ashes to Ashes (UK TV)
Genre: Action/Adventure, F/M, Mystery, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-16
Updated: 2019-11-25
Packaged: 2020-10-20 04:03:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20669015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lena86/pseuds/Lena86
Summary: Alex is back to stay in the 1980s. She, Gene and Simon Tremaine head up to Manchester in hot pursuit of a suspect and Alex begins to discover things about the Guv she never thought she would. (Sequel to Stealing Time)





	1. Chapter One

‘You’ve got  _ nuffin’ _ , copper.’ The words were spat rather than spoken, spittle collecting in the corners of the man’s mouth. 

Alex sat back in her seat to avoid flying saliva and crossed her arms. Beside her, Liam Clarke opened the manila case file they’d brought in and started laying photographs out on the table in front of their suspect, Carl Morrissey. 

‘These are the owners of the shop your friend turned over last night,’ he said evenly.  The photographs were horrific to say the least. The owners, a couple in their mid-thirties, had been beaten to within an inch of their lives.  ‘And this,’ Liam said, producing another photo, ‘is their son. He was sleeping upstairs, heard the attack, came down and ran into someone.’ 

The boy had been hit hard enough to send him flying across the shop and through the broken window. 

‘He's eight years old,’ Alex said. ‘We know you were there, Carl, and we know you weren’t alone.’ 

‘So some kid got in the way and got hurt,’ the man said, leaning back in his chair. ‘Not my problem, is it, darlin’?’ 

‘Tell us –' Alex began. 

Suddenly the door to the interview room was thrown open hard enough that it hit the wall. Alex turned in her seat to see Gene stalk into the room and slam the door behind himself. He was still wearing his coat and gloves, obviously having come straight from the hospital. 

‘For the benefit of the tape, DCI Gene Hunt has entered –' Liam began. 

Gene cut him off. ‘Interview suspended at –' he looked at Alex.

‘Oh-nine-thirty-seven,’ she supplied. 

Gene nodded and shoved the tape recorder off the table, not watching as it hit the opposite wall and smashed. He grabbed Carl by his shirt and hauled him out of his chair, shoving him into the wall. 

‘Guv!’ Alex and Liam exclaimed at the same time, rising out of their chairs. 

Gene was holding Carl clear off the ground. ‘Morrissey, you piece of shit, you’re gonna tell me exactly where your partner is or I’m gonna see to it you don’t walk out of this station on your own two legs.’ 

‘Police brutality, Mr Hunt!’ Carl said, sounding panicked. 

‘Not at all, sunshine. Lots of stairs in this nick. You might ‘ave a nasty fall,’ Gene said. ‘Or…’ he brought his knee up into Carl’s groin and dropped the man to the floor. 

‘You’ve got nuffin’,’ the man said again, groaning the words this time. 

‘No, see  _ they’ve  _ got nothin’,’ Gene said, jerking a gloved thumb over his shoulder at Alex and Liam. ‘I, on the other ‘and, am cursed with a very good memory for faces. Despite the fact that a petty little scrote like you was beneath me, I remember yours.’ He punctuated the last word with a vicious kick to Carl’s ribs. ‘Little visit to Manchester about fifteen years ago ring a bell? Course, you were just a shoplifter then. Where’s Carson?’ 

‘Carson?’ Alex asked. 

‘Where is he, Morrissey?’ Gene demanded, ignoring Alex. ‘Come on, we both know you’re not the brains of the operation!’ 

‘Guv-‘ Alex said again, stepping forward this time. 

‘’e’s gone ‘ome!’ Morrissey said, before Gene could put the boot in again. ‘I never touched the kid!’ 

Gene kicked him anyway and turned to Liam. ‘Clarke, get this snivelling little toe-rag down to the cells.’ 

Liam pulled Morrissey to his feet and walked him out of the room. Alex turned to Gene. 

‘What the hell was that?’ she demanded. He pushed past her and she followed him into the corridor. ‘Guv!’ 

‘Goin’ to see the Super.’ 

He rounded a corner she caught up with him, grabbing his arm and stopping him in his tracks. ‘Gene, talk to me.’ 

He pulled his arm out of her grip and leaned against the wall, shoving his hands in his pockets. ‘Charlie Benson and ‘is missus’re still in intensive care.’ 

‘And David?’ 

‘In a coma. Lost an eye when ‘e went through the glass and damaged his spine. They don’t think he’ll walk again.’ 

‘Oh, god.’ 

‘I want this bastard, Bolls.’ 

‘We’ve got Morrissey…’ 

‘Like I said, Morrissey hasn’t got it in 'im. Trust me, Bolly, it was Carson. Uniform pulled the pair of ‘em in when I was still in Manchester. Carson bit one of my officer’s fingers off, then stabbed ‘im in the face with ‘is own car keys. I want this bastard, Bolls. Even if I ‘ave to collect him myself.’ 

He turned and strode off again, leaving Alex alone in the corridor.

*

At seven PM most of CID were sitting at their desks, sending occasional glances at Gene’s office. The Guv himself had been closeted away with the blinds drawn for the best part of the afternoon. Even Harper had only dared interrupt once to offer him tea. 

Alex was just about to rise and go into Gene’s office when the door finally opened. 

‘You lot still ‘ere?’ Gene demanded. ‘Get over to Franco’s, mine’s a large scotch. Clarke, Drake, Tremaine, wait a moment.’ 

After the rest of CID had headed over to Franco’s, Alex turned to Gene.  ‘What’s going on, Guv?’ 

‘My former colleagues in the GMP have confirmed that Lenny Carson’s been seen at some of his old haunts today. I’ve suggested to the Super that a couple of you, ably led by my good self, head up there and pick ‘im up.’ 

‘What did he say?’ Liam asked. 

‘He agreed. Was concerned about leavin’ the department without a DCI or a DI, so Tremaine?’ 

‘Yes, Guv?’ 

‘Pack yer bags. Bolly and Clarke, which of you wants to come along on our little excursion?’ 

‘I’ll come,’ Alex said quickly. 

‘Right,’ Gene said. ‘That’s settled then. We leave first thing tomorrow mornin’. You two head over to Franco’s. Clarke, stay ‘ere a minute. Couple of things I want to go over with yer.’

*

‘You ok, Bolls? You were miles away.’ 

Alex looked up as Gene took the seat opposite her, depositing a tumbler of scotch on the table between them. ‘Sorry, Guv. Miles away. What did you say?’ 

He shot her a glance that was half amused, half exasperated. ‘Nothin’. You don’t ‘ave to come, you know. Wi’ me, I mean. Unless you don’t trust me an’ Simple Simon to behave ourselves without you there.’ 

‘It’s not that. I’d like to,’ she said brightly. Her smile dimmed as she continued. ‘Unless you’d rather I didn’t,’ she added, watching as he filled her wine glass almost to the brim.  She was certain he knew he wasn’t supposed to, that he did it to see if it would annoy her. Surprisingly it didn’t. She was going to drink the wine anyway. The realisation that it would have irritated her to no end before gave her pause. 

He shrugged, turning his attention back to his own glass. ‘’s either you or bloody Clarke. At least wi’ you we can save a bit o’ cash on the hotel bill.’ 

She rolled her eyes at him and took a sip of wine, careful not to spill the overfilled glass. ‘Bit presumptuous,’ she said, glancing over at the rest of CID, gathered around the next table and indulging in a slurred drinking song. 

‘What?’ 

‘Assuming we’d be sharing a room,’ she supplied. ‘We’re going up there for a case, not a dirty weekend.’ 

He smirked. ‘Up to you, Bolly. Just don’t come cryin’ to me when you get lonely without the Gene Genie to keep you warm.’ 

She snorted derisively at that. ‘Well, then. I suppose I should get all the quality time I can.’ She rose, pulling her jacket from the back of the chair. ‘You coming up?’ 

‘‘spose I bloody better had do, if I’m not getting any while we’re away.’

*

The corridor wasn’t one she recognised. It was untidy, grey smoke curling towards the ceiling. She was standing beside Sam Tyler, following his gaze, she saw an older man aiming a gun towards them. 

No. Not towards them. Alex focused on the man standing with his back to them, mirroring the older man’s posture. Gene. 

Glancing at Sam, who didn’t seem to know she was there, she moved around until she could see Gene more clearly. His hand was shaking. She’d never seen him shake. Usually, he was so sure of himself, so certain. 

‘Are you really capable of taking me down?’ the older man said. ‘After I made you?’ 

Alex watched as Gene lowered his gun, his arm shaking as though it was too heavy to hold up. 

Another man entered the scene, aiming a gun at the older man’s head. ‘If he isn’t capable… I am.’ 

Seeing he was surrounded, the older man backed away, towards the wall. 

‘I trusted you, sir. I believed I was helping you investigate Malone!’ the younger man seemed desperate, but his hand was steady as he cocked his gun. ‘You’re supposed to be the example!’ 

The older man looked back at Gene and Sam. Sam looked scared, unsure of how this was going to pan out. Gene… Gene looked blank. 

‘So. Which on of us is going to have the balls to shoot first?’ the older man asked, his voice dry. 

Inside the skin of a second, Gene raised his gun and shot the man in the leg. 

_ ‘Something in him…’ Sam said. Alex looked at him but realised it wasn’t the Sam beside her speaking. The words came from her tapes. From Sam’s report. ‘For everything that was wrong with him he had this sense of… of what was  _ ** _right_ ** _ , what had to be  _ ** _done_ ** _ , that was so rigid he could shoot the man who taught him everything.' _

‘Well that’s good, isn’t it?’ Alex asked, not really expecting an answer as she watched Gene move to look down on the man on the floor. Harry Woolf, she remembered from her files. Gene’s mentor, if Sam was to be believed. ‘It’s what makes him a good copper, a good man.’ 

‘D’you know what happens to something that’s too rigid when it comes up against an irresistible force, Alex? An impossible choice?’ Sam’s voice came, startling her. ‘It snaps.’ 

‘I’ll call you an ambulance,’ Gene said. ‘Guv.’ 

‘You think he’s going to snap.’ 

‘I think he’s going to break.’ Sam was looking at her now, and the scene around them was disappearing, becoming hazy. 

Noticing he was fading too, Alex called out to him. ‘Sam! You can’t just say something like that and walk away! Sam!’ But he was already fading, she could feel herself surfacing.

*

‘You know, if I wasn’t so secure in your affections, Bolls, I might be worried.’ 

‘What?’ she asked sleepily, opening her eyes to see Gene giving her an unreadable look. She glanced at the clock. Two AM.  _ Can’t have been asleep that long,  _ she mused.

‘Callin’ out another man’s name in yer sleep like that,’ Gene continued. 

‘I –‘

‘What’s got you dreamin’ about Sam Tyler?’ 

‘Sam – ‘

‘Tyler,’ he repeated. 

Alex looked up at him where he leant against the headboard, gazing down at her from beneath his lashes. ‘Just a… dream,’ she said, moving up the bed so she could rest her head against his chest. He shifted slightly to accommodate her and she turned her face into him, smiling against his skin as his arm slid around her shoulders. 

‘About Sam,’  he said, his tone completely casual. 

She glanced up at him. He was looking up at the ceiling, his mouth set in a pout. ‘Just a memory, I suppose. A mixture of my files on Sam and the man himself from when I met him in the Railway Arms. Before I came back.’ 

‘You sounded angry with him. Might even go so far as to say you were a bit… desperate.’ 

‘Well I can’t have been, can I? Only you make me desperately angry.’ He smirked at that, his body relaxing somewhat. ‘What time do we leave?’ 

‘Simon should be at the station at about seven, then we’ll pack up the Merc and be on our way.’ 

They lay in companionable silence for a few moments. ‘We were talking about you,’ Alex said. ‘Well... Sam was.’ 

‘Why?’ 

She remembered the look on Gene’s face in her dream, the way his hand had been shaking. ‘I… can’t really remember,’ she lied. 

‘Hmm. And what were  _ you _ talking about?’ 

‘Oh, I don't usually talk much in my dreams.’ 

‘Is that right? Might try and book my next day off there.’ She slapped him lightly on the chest and he chuckled quietly. Then he scooted down the bed, pulling her with him. ‘Need more sleep if I’m gonna drive to Manchester tomorrow, Bolly.’ 

‘I might get up for a bit,’ she said. ‘I’m not really tired.’

He looked thoughtful for a moment before a wicked gleam grew in his eyes. ‘Reckon I can help you out there, love,’ he said, reaching for her.


	2. Chapter Two

'Bolly! Wake up. We’re ‘ere.’

Alex jerked awake and sat up, rubbing her eyes. Their early morning activities had meant she wasn’t very well-rested. Gene had been ridiculously chipper when they awoke and Alex had had to stop herself snapping on several occasions. Gene had pulled the Merc to a stop in the car park of a large, unattractive cement building. 

‘Worse than ours,’ Simon said from the backseat.

‘Oi!’ Gene said, affronted. ‘Do you mind?’

‘Sorry, Guv,’ Simon said, sharing an amused glance with Alex. 

‘Right,’ Gene said, pulling his gloves off. ‘We’ll nip in, announce our presence and see what they’ve got on our friend Carson.‘

They climbed out of the car and headed up the steep steps that led to the station. Gene’s longer legs carried him up the stairs ahead of them and he paused at the top, looking down impatiently. Alex glanced up and stopped in her tracks. For a moment, the sun shone in her eyes and Gene looked… different. Shorter hair, a lighter coat. She blinked and the vision cleared. 

‘You coming in or taking in the ambience?’ Gene demanded. 

‘You all right, Alex?’ Simon asked, drawing level with her shoulder. 

‘Did you see…’ she began.

‘What?’

‘Bolly!’ Gene snapped.

‘Nothing,’ she said to Simon. ‘Shall we?’

*

As they entered CID, Simon let out a low whistle. Blue smoke hung in the air and several of the desks had overflowing ashtrays. The posters on the walls looked like they hadn’t been changed in fifteen years. 

‘It’s just like Sam described it,’ Alex said softly.

Gene grunted but didn’t speak. 

‘Empty though,’ Simon said. 

‘Lunchtime,’ Alex supplied, watching Gene walk over to a desk near the cubicle that occupied the centre of the incident room. He ran his fingers over it, tapping them lightly on a stack of files at the edge of the desk. 

‘Speaking of,’ Simon said. ‘I’m going to head down to the canteen. Grab a bite to eat. Alex? Guv?’

Gene shook his head, still looking around the room, his expression unreadable.

‘No thank you, Simon,’ Alex said quietly. 

Simon nodded, shooting a quick glance at Gene before turning and heading out of the room. 

Alex moved to Gene’s side and touched his arm lightly. ‘Gene?’

He looked up at her, as though he’d just realised she was there. ‘You were right, Bolls. Nothin’s changed.’ He nodded at a couple of desks on the other side of the aisle. ‘Ray. Chris.’ He nodded at the desk behind her. ‘Cartwright.’ He tapped the desk he’d paused at again.

‘Sam,’ she said quietly. Gene nodded once. 

_ ‘Sam Tyler was a friend of mine. Sam Tyler died.’ _ The words echoed in her head as though Gene had spoken them aloud. But Sam hadn't died, had he? Not really. All the same, he’d left Gene behind. Gone where Gene couldn’t. Or wouldn’t. 

‘That your office?’ she asked.

‘Hmm,’ he grunted, glancing up at the partition in front of them. ‘Fancy a butchers?’

* 

Alex sat on the edge of the desk, surveying the room around her and trying to imagine it with Gene’s unmistakable stamp on it. ‘It’s bigger than your office,’ she observed. 

Gene was sitting in the desk chair with his feet up on the desk, legs crossed at the ankle, looking for all the world as though this was still his office. He turned a page in the newspaper he’d picked up. ‘Just more space for paperwork, Bolls.’

‘You know I’ve often wondered what it would have been like if I’d come here,’ she said. ‘To Manchester in the 70s, instead of London in the 80s.’ She glanced at him, expecting him to be annoyed at her explicit reference to the nature of their world. Instead, he merely continued leafing through the paper. 

‘Can't say as you would’ve liked it, Bolls. You'd never’ve been a DI for a start. And before Sam I wasn’t exactly squeaky clean - ' she snorted derisively at the idea of him _ ever _ being squeaky clean and he levelled his gaze at her. ‘Besides, I was a married man at the time.’

She opened her mouth to retort but her outrage was stalled by the doors to the office opening and admitting a man sporting the most ridiculous moustache she’d seen since Ray’s departure.

‘Well, make yerself at home, why don’t you, Gene?’

Gene didn’t move, merely glanced up at the man before returning to his paper. ‘Wonderin’ when you were goin’ ter show up. Bolly, this is DCI Gary West of the Greater Manchester Police. Gaz, this is my DI.’

DCI West stepped forwards and shook Alex’s hand. 'Bolly?'

'Alex Drake,' she corrected with a smile.

‘Charmed, I _ am _ sure.’

‘Don’t waste your time, Gaz. Drake’s spoken for.’

‘Don’t see a ring,’ West said, holding Alex’s gaze.

Gene folded up his paper and threw it onto the desk. ‘Married to the force that one. Feminist pair of stockings, an' all.’

‘Shame,’ Gaz said, winking at Alex. 

‘I’ve got a DS knockin’ about somewhere, maybe you can try your luck with ‘im.’

'Ray Carling? No ta.'

'Not Ray.'

‘Feet off my desk, Gene.’

‘It was my desk first.’ Gene looked around the office, resolutely keeping his feet where they were. ‘Don’t think much of what you’ve done with the place,’ he sniffed.

‘Well, you buggered off to London and took the bloody dartboard with you. And the booze.’

‘Cockney scum to catch, Gaz.’

‘Actually, Gene, we could use your - ’

Gene swung his legs off the desk and stood. ‘We’re ‘ere to bring our bastard in. Nothin’ else.’

‘Come on, Gene,’ Gaz said, watching as Gene moved around the desk. ‘I’m only asking you to take a look. You and your fancy Met detectives.’

Gene walked towards the office door, swinging his coat over his shoulders. 

‘She’s twelve years old, Gene. And it’s her birthday tomorrow. Name's Sandra Larkin.'

Gene stopped. ‘Runaway?’

‘Kidnappin’. Parents are worried sick.’

‘When did she disappear?’ Alex asked. 

‘Last night. We’re goin’ to interview the parents now.’

‘We’ll come along,’ Gene said. ‘Give you a chance to use your psychobollocks, Drake.’

Alex smirked. ‘Yes, Guv.’

Gene turned back to DCI West. ‘Let me ‘ave a word with my DS. _ Someone _ should be lookin’ for our man.’

‘Tell him to take a couple of mine.’ Gene nodded and the three of them headed out of the office. As they reached the double doors leading onto the corridor, West turned to Gene. ‘So, what are you driving these days?’

*

‘Mrs Larkin, this is my colleague from the London Metropolitan police, Detective Chief Inspector Gene –‘

‘I know who you are, DCI Hunt’ the woman said slowly, speaking directly to Gene. 

Alex and Gene had been seated on the chintziest sofa Alex had ever seen. The woman sitting opposite them – Kitty Larkin, the missing girl’s mother – was attractive, in a tired way. She looked distraught, as Alex would have expected, but also resigned, which she wouldn’t have.

‘My sister was murdered,’ Kitty continued. ‘In ’75. You led the investigation. You weren’t living in London then.’

‘Transferred down there a few years ago.’

‘I remember. After your friend was in that accident. He was nice. Polite, too. For a copper.’

‘That’s right, love,’ Gene said softly. 

‘I was sorry to hear he passed.’

Gene nodded as an older woman entered the room, carrying a tea tray. 

‘This is my neighbour, Mabel Stubbs.’

Gene looked up and Mrs Stubbs blinked in surprise. ‘Eugene Hunt, as I live and breathe. Thought you’d buggered off to that London.’

‘Mabel!’ Mrs Larkin said, scandalised.

‘Sorry, love,’ Mrs Stubbs said soothingly, patting the younger woman’s shoulder. She looked back at Gene. ‘Pop round and see me before you go, Eugene. I’m at number 29.'

‘Yes, Mrs Stubbs,’ Gene said, shifting slightly. After Mabel Stubbs had left, he returned his attention to ‘Mrs Larkin -’

‘Kitty.’

‘Kitty, this is my colleague, DI Drake. Can you tell us about the night Sandra disappeared?’

‘She was taken. Sandra would never wander off. She was a good girl, Mr Hunt. You remember? She were four when you were ‘ere last.’

‘I remember.’

‘She took a shine to your DI. To you too, come to that.’ Alex poured Kitty Larkin a cup of tea and handed it to her. ‘It was my fault. The night Sandra was taken I was out. I’d left her dad to take care of her. He’s not very good at staying awake.’

‘He didn’t hear the break-in?’ Alex asked.

Kitty shared a look with Gene. ‘He’s a heavy sleeper,’ she said flatly.

Alex glanced at Gene, who shook his head minutely.

‘Came ‘ome about elevenish, and there was all glass on the step. The door was unlocked.’ Kitty stared at the teacup in her hands, turning it slowly. 

‘So the front door was unlocked?’ Alex asked gently, when it became apparent the woman needed prompting.

‘Kitchen door,’ Gene said. ‘Go on, Kitty, love.’

‘Went in to check on ‘er and she wasn’t there.’

‘Did she take anything with her?’ Alex asked.

‘She didn’t run away!’ Kitty snapped, this much emotion seemed to break her and she burst into tears. 

Gene leaned forwards and took her teacup from her, wrapping his long fingers around hers. ‘DI Drake’s just going to take a look at Sandra’s room, love,’ he said, nodding at Alex. 

‘She didn’t, Mr Hunt!’ Kitty sobbed as Alex rose and headed towards the stairs. 

‘I know, I know, I know.’

Pausing in the doorway, Alex paled; Gene’s words and his tone throwing her back over a year to a cold street outside a pub that had been magically transplanted from Manchester to London. 

_ ‘My baby…’ _

_ ‘I know. I know. I know.’ _

When Gene joined her roughly ten minutes later, she was sitting on Sandra’s bed, her hands wrapped around a small pink book.

‘Her diary,’ she said in response to the look he sent her. 

‘What’s it say?’ he asked. 

She handed it up to him. ‘I haven’t looked,’ she admitted.

He opened it and flicked through it. ‘Can’t make head nor tail of this, Bolls. More your thing.’

He handed it back to her and moved to the girl’s dressing table, leafing through the homework he found there. After a few moments, he glanced back over his shoulder at Alex, who hadn’t moved. He walked back over to her and touched her shoulder. ‘Bolly?’

‘I’m sorry,’ she said, looking down at the diary. ‘It’s just – ‘

‘Sandra’s about the same age,’ he said softly. ‘As your Molly, I mean.’

She looked up at him, her mind frantically searching for another time he’d called her daughter by her first name. He usually avoided mentioning Molly at all, out of some desire to protect her, she was sure. Now she came to think of it he had done so ever since their fight just before they’d taken down Operation Rose.

‘Yes. Yes she is.’ He nodded and squeezed her shoulder briefly before turning away. ‘It’s just… I find myself forgetting. Sometimes,’ she added hastily.

He paused in his searching. ‘You never forget ‘em, Bolls,’ he said quietly. ‘Not really. You just get distracted.’

She stared at his back, opening her mouth to speak but was interrupted by the door opening, admitting DCI West.

‘Gene, radio for you.’

Gene took it and thumbed the button. ‘Hunt.’

Simon Tremaine’s voice came through the tinny speaker. ‘Thought you should know we’ve got a lead on Carson. Heading over there now.’

‘Right. Radio me if you pick him up.’

The radio crackled and Gene moved it away from his ear. ‘Don’t miss these bloody things,’ he muttered. ‘Say again, Simon.’

‘I’m taking DC Harris.’

‘Right. See you at the station. Hunt out.’ He looked at Alex. ‘Come on, then. Bring that,’ he nodded to the diary. ‘We’ll ‘ave a look later on.’

‘Are we going to see Mrs Stubbs?’ Alex asked. 

He glared at her. ‘_I _am.’

‘Oh no, I’m coming with you, _ Eugene _.’


	3. Chapter Three

Gene led Alex around to the back door of number twenty-nine and opened it without knocking. Mabel Stubbs was sitting at the kitchen table reading the paper. She jumped to her feet as they walked in and flicked the kettle on before coming to stand directly in front of Gene.  Alex stifled a smirk as she watched the tiny old woman bossing the Guv around.

‘Let me look at you,’ she said, pushing her glasses up her nose and placing her hands on Gene’s shoulders and shoving them back before stepping away to look up at him appraisingly. ‘You’ve lost weight,’ she observed. ‘You’re not eating properly, Eugene. Your hair needs cutting. And that tie...' she raised her hands to tighten the knot but Gene brushed her off. 

‘Give over and make us a brew, Mabel.’

The woman tutted good-naturedly and bustled over to the kettle. ‘Have a seat and make yerself at 'ome, lovey,’ she said to Alex. ‘I know ‘e won’t need tellin’.’

True to her words, Gene had located the biscuit tin and was rooting through it. He looked up, half a garibaldi in his mouth, blue eyes set in an expression of innocence Alex had never seen before.

Mabel Stubbs turned and caught sight of Gene with his hand in the biscuit tin. ‘Offer one to yer lady friend, Eugene.’ She turned to Alex. ‘You’ll ‘ave to introduce yourself, love. Your boss ‘asn’t got the manners of an alley cat.’

Alex smiled and shook Mabel’s hand before taking a seat at the table. ‘Alex Drake.’

‘She’s m'DI,' Gene said, his voice muffled by the garibaldi.

Mabel shot him a look but forbore to comment, instead turning and placing the teapot on the table and taking a seat. ‘Sit down, Eugene. Great lummox.’ She smiled brightly at Alex as she poured her a cup. ‘I always said all that boy needed to do was walk into a room and it was full.’

Alex returned her smile as Gene sat down. ‘I take it you’ve known DCI Hunt a long time, Mrs Stubbs?’

‘_DCI Hunt_,' Mabel snorted. 'Knew his mam. And call me Mabel,’ she added, slapping Gene’s wrist as he tried to add a third sugar to his tea.

He pouted. ‘Tell me about your neighbours, Mabel. I know you’ll ‘ave the inside scoop.’

‘You callin’ me a gossip?’

‘I’m sayin’ you’re always the first one to know what’s ‘appenin’ on your street. You’ve got more snouts than the entire GMP put together.’

‘Just my luck. I want tea with Liza's eldest and I get the bloody police officer instead,’ Mabel said, winking at Alex. ‘Well,' she said, settling, 'you know about the ‘usband?’

Gene nodded, but Alex was confused. ‘What about the husband?’ she asked.

‘Likes a drink,’ Gene supplied.

Mabel nodded. ‘Right good fer nothin’, ‘e is. Always ‘as been. The son, though…’ shaking her head, she extracted a cigarette from the box on the table and put it to her lips.

‘Mikey?’ Gene asked, leaning forwards and lighting her cigarette for her.

‘Mikey,’ she confirmed. ‘’e was a promisin’ lad. Time was ‘is mam thought ‘e’d go into the police. Especially after that business with her sister. Apparently he were right taken with you and that DI of yours.’

‘How old is he?’ Alex asked.

‘Nineteen?’ Gene hazarded.

‘Twenty-two,’ Mabel corrected. ‘Went off the rails about four years ago. Fell in wi’ the wrong crowd.’

‘In what way?’

Mabel looked at Gene thoughtfully for a moment as she exhaled a stream of blue smoke. Alex tried to lean out of the way surreptitiously but saw the twitch of Gene’s lips as he caught her. 

‘Drugs,’ the old woman said. ‘Among other things. But drugs were the root of it.’

Alex watched Gene’s face become carefully blank. ‘Usually are,’ he said.

Mabel nodded and stubbed out her cigarette. ‘You're thinkin' of your Stuart. But this was worse. The most your brother ever did when ‘e were a kid was nick a couple of bob from your mam's housekeepin'.'

'More'n just a couple of bob toward the end,' Gene said darkly. 

'Oh aye,' she said. 'Although it always reappeared mysteriously.' She gave Gene a piercing look. 'Any road, Kitty chucked ‘im out a few months ago. Haven’t seen ‘im since but ‘e were ‘ere the night Sandra was taken.’

‘What time?’ Gene asked.

‘’bout ten.’

‘Did you see him leave?’ Alex asked.

‘Aye,’ Mabel said. ‘Half an hour after ‘e went in. He was alone.’

‘But you can only see the front of the house from here…’ Alex said

‘Could’ve sneaked ‘er out the back door,’ Gene agreed. His radio squawked. ‘’scuse me,’ he said, rising from the table and exiting the kitchen, snagging a garibaldi on the way out.

‘Sorry about him,’ Alex said, following the direction of Mabel’s gaze.

The old woman smiled. ‘Opened them special,’ she confided. ‘I know ‘e likes ‘em.’

‘You know him well, don’t you?’ Alex asked, watching as Mabel poured another cup of tea for them both.

‘Knew the whole family. Lived next door to ‘em when ‘e were a kid. Skinny little thing ‘e was, too. Blond hair, blue eyes, right little cherub ‘e looked, for all that ‘e was a holy terror. Shot right up when ‘e were thirteen. Liza swore he grew two foot overnight.’

Alex smiled, glancing out of the kitchen window at the pacing blond-haired, blue-eyed holy terror himself. She turned back to see Mabel smirking at her. ‘What?’

‘You. Smilin’ at ‘im like that,’ Mabel said. 

Alex blushed, ducking her head to cover it.

‘Bloody lucky e did have that growth spurt, mind. What with ‘is dad bein’ the way he was. Didn’t help ‘is brother though. Poor lad just wasn’t strong enough. Not like Eugene. Proper idealist ‘e was. Still is, deep down. But ‘e couldn’t help Stuie.’ 

Alex looked back down at her tea. ‘But he tried.’

Mabel nodded and patted Alex’s hand. ‘Of course he did, love. Waifs and strays, that was our Eugene. Even when Stuie was nicking out of their mam’s purse Eugene stood up fer ‘im. After Stuie died it were very easy fer ‘im to go to the bad. That Sam Tyler made it harder.' She exhaled heavily and regarded Alex thoughtfully through the cloud of smoke. 'I imagine you make it nigh on impossible.’

Alex opened her mouth to speak, surprised at the turn the conversation had taken, but Mabel continued.

‘You must be quite a woman, Alex. Eugene’s very taken with you. Oh don’t look at me like that,’ she said good-naturedly. ‘I’m not blind.’

‘No, but you ‘ave got a selective memory,’ Gene said from the doorway, making Alex jump. ‘You  _ know _ I hate being called Eugene. We better make a move, Bolly.’

Mabel stood up and smiled at him. ‘Not sure I approve of that motor of yours.’

‘Shut up,’ he said mildly, giving her a peck on the cheek. ‘Take you for a spin in it before we go back if you like.’

‘So yer not goin’ to just up and disappear again?’

‘I won’t let him,’ Alex said, smiling.

Mabel returned the smile. ‘I daresay you won’t.’

‘If you two have quite finished!’ Gene snapped. 

‘Sorry, Guv,’ Alex said, barely containing her smirk.

Once they were back in the Merc and speeding towards the station, Alex glanced at Gene. ‘Are we going to the hotel?’

He shook his head. ‘Simon’s brought someone in. Old acquaintance of Carson’s. I’m goin’ to have a little chat with him before retiring fer the evenin’.’ He glanced at her. ‘That ok?’

‘Of course! Do you want me to sit in?’

‘I’ll run the interview with Simon for now. You ‘ave a look through the case file from my last run in with him. See if you can spot anythin’.’ He eyed her before continuing. ‘You and Mrs Stubbs seemed pretty cosy.’

‘She’s a nice woman,’ Alex said, noting his use of  _ Mrs _ Stubbs.

‘She’s a holy bloody terror,’ Gene grunted. 

‘Funny,’ Alex said, smiling to herself. ‘She said the exact same thing about you.’

*

They pushed through the double doors to CID in unison, Alex drawing interested glances from the squad now assembled there.  Once their eyes had passed over her a few of them got to their feet, having spotted Gene.

‘Guv!’ one of them said, stepping forward. 

Gene shook the proffered hand. ‘Freddie.’ He nodded to the group that was rapidly forming around him. 

DCI West exited his office clapping his hands. ‘All right you ‘orrible lot, ‘aven’t you got work to do? Give DCI Hunt some air.’

The crowd dispersed slightly, leaving Gene standing with Alex and Simon Tremaine. 

DCI West walked over and sat on the desk closest to Gene. ‘So what did you get from the Larkins' neighbour?’

‘The son was there the night Sandra disappeared,’ Gene said. 

‘Mikey?’ West asked. 

Alex nodded. ‘Michael Larkin. Twenty-two year old with a drug problem.’ 

‘Get one of your lads to look up known associates,’ Gene said. ‘Sounds like ‘e might ‘ave a bit of a record. Bolls ‘as got Sandra’s diary, so she’ll be workin’ up a bit of a profile later on.’ Alex blinked in surprise.

‘Who’ve you brought in, Simon?’ Gene asked.

‘Harry Carr,’ Simon said. 

‘Harry the Hand,’ Gene said. ‘Right, let's get down to interview. Get it over with. I need a bloody drink.’

‘Interview?’ Alex asked, raising her eyebrows. ‘Sam said you didn’t have an interview room. That you used Lost Property or the canteen.’

‘Maybe when ‘e first got ‘ere.’ Gene said. ‘Like to think we moved with the times a little bit, Bolly.’

‘Actually, Gene,’ West said, stepping forward. ‘Both interview rooms are full, so it  _ will _ be Lost Property.’

Gene rolled his eyes. ‘Fanbloodytastic. Simon, you’re in wi’ me. Gaz, can you show DI Drake ‘ere to the records room? I want her to go over my old Carson file.’

He turned and stalked out of CID, Tremaine hot on his heels. 

‘You’d think he’d never bloody left,’ DCI West said, smirking. He lit a cigarette. ‘So you knew DI Tyler?’

Alex felt the attention of the room suddenly focus on her. ‘I did. A bit,’ she said. West exhaled and watched her closely through the smoke, making Alex wonder how much the man had learned directly from Gene. ‘Sam was part of a study I ran on police officers who had suffered severe psychological trauma.’ 

‘So you’re a psychologist?’ West asked.

‘Guilty,’ Alex said, smiling brightly.

‘Psychologist  _ and  _ a DI. Impressive,’ West said, sounding like he meant it.

‘Shall we have a look at these files then?’ Alex asked, feeling awkward under his stare.

* 

‘Blimey, Bolly. Thought you’d have buggered off to the pub by now.’

Alex jumped and looked up to see Gene standing just behind her. She’d taken the Carson file back to CID and had taken a seat at Sam Tyler’s old desk to read through it, ignoring the occasional flutter of recognition whenever she saw something in handwriting she recognised. Usually Gene’s or Ray’s, but occasionally something in Chris’s very careful hand would appear and make her smile. Looking up, she realised that CID had slowly emptied around her, until she was sitting all alone.  ‘Just going through this file, Guv.’

‘Hmm,’ he grunted. ‘Not waitin’ fer me, then?’

She smiled. ‘Of course not.’

His lips twitched slightly. ‘Simon’s showing Carson’s mate to the cells.’

‘I thought he was just here for questioning?’

‘Assault on a police officer. Worth a night in the cells and makes sure he can’t contact Carson and let ‘im know we’re on to him,’ Gene said, looking up as DCI West exited his office, pulling his coat on. ‘Part-timer.’

West smirked. ‘Pint?’ 

Gene nodded. ‘’s your round, if I remember rightly.’

‘Course it is.’ He turned to Alex. ‘Buy you a drink, Alex?’

She stood stretching out her back and pulling her coat from the back of the chair. ‘Sounds ideal,’ she said, not missing the tension in Gene’s jaw at West’s continued overtures to her.

*

They pulled up outside a very familiar pub and Alex glanced at Gene as they got out of the car. ‘Here?’

‘What’s wrong with it?’ Simon asked, closing his door.

‘Nothin’,’ Gene said. ‘Get ‘em in, Simon.’

Simon nodded and headed into the Railway Arms.

‘Gene – ‘ Alex began.

‘Don’t get yer knickers in a twist, Bolly,’ Gene said, walking around the car and lighting a cigarette. ‘Sometimes a boozer’s just a boozer. Come on,’ he said, holding the door open for her. ‘Reckon Gaz’ll be just trippin’ over ‘imself to get you a glass of whatever house rubbish Nelson’s servin’ these days.’

*

‘So tell me, Alex,’ Gaz said, his voice slurring slightly as he leaned across the table and tapped Alex’s hand. ‘You ever think of transferrin’ out of London?’

She turned from watching Gene explain the finer points of the perfect darts throw to Simon Tremaine and a couple of the other officers. ‘Well I’m from London,’ she said, aware that she was slightly drunk after having had her drinks bought all night by the men of CID, much to Gene’s annoyance. ‘Plus,’ she said, turning back to watch Gene throw. ‘There’s lots of things I like about Fenchurch East in particular.’

‘Yeah, but we could use someone of your skills up here,’ Gaz said.

Alex turned back to him, smirking as she realised he’d drunkenly left his fingers resting against the back of her hand. ‘I’m sure there’s lots of people you could –‘

‘Right, Bolly, drink up. We should head over to the hotel and get a good night’s sleep.’

Alex looked up to see Gene standing just behind her, silver-blue gaze zeroing in on West’s fingers on her hand. She stood and pulled her coat on. ‘Right you are, Guv.’ She moved away from the table, stumbling slightly and grabbing Gene’s sleeve to keep herself upright.

‘Bloody ‘ell, woman,’ Gene said gruffly. ‘How many did you let ‘er have, Gaz?’

West grinned up at him. ‘Not enough yet, Gene. You can’t be off already?’

‘Long day tomorrow, Gaz. Tremaine’s stoppin’ here fer a bit though. Get one of your lads to make sure ‘e gets to the hotel later.’

Alex followed him unsteadily out to the Merc and climbed inside, pulling down the visor to examine her reflection in the mirror as Gene started the car and roared away from the pub. 

‘Nice to see Nelson,’ she said tiredly, glancing over at Gene. 

‘Hmm,’ he grunted.

‘Looked a bit shocked when we walked in. But I thought he recovered well.’

‘Hmm,’ he said again, keeping his eyes on the road. 

‘Are you all right?’

‘Gaz’s got quite the bloody eye for you,’ he said, having the good grace not to look at her.

She gave a rather unladylike snort of amusement. ‘I  _ knew _ that was bothering you! What do you want to do? Stamp ‘property of Gene Hunt’ across my forehead?’

‘Don’t tempt me,’ he said, pulling into a small car park outside a hotel.

As he moved to open his door and get out, she reached out and rested a hand on his arm. ‘Gene – ‘

‘Don’t worry, Bolls. Man o’ my looks and charisma’s got nothin’ to worry about on that score.’ The corners of his mouth twitched upwards slightly. ‘But just so as I don’t start thinkin’ I  _ do _ , you can reassure me of your affections once we get checked in.’

She smirked at him. 'I knew there was a reason you wanted to leave the pub so early.’

‘Too bloody right. Now mush woman.’

They were partway through the checking in process when Gene’s radio squawked. He pulled it out of his pocket, moving away from the desk and leaving Alex to complete the check-in.

When he returned Alex looked up at him. ‘Everything all right?’

He pouted, shaking his head slightly. ‘Uniform’ve found the body of a girl in the canal. Matches Sandra’s description. I’m gonna pick up her mum and head back over to the station.’

‘I’ll come with you,’ she said, looking around for a member of staff to take their bags up to their room.

‘No you stay ‘ere, love. Get some supper and go to bed. I’ll be back later.’ He kissed her forehead and turned and walked out, leaving Alex standing in the hotel reception. 


	4. Chapter Four

Alex awoke, blinking at the ceiling in an effort to work out what had woken her. She heard the chink of glass on glass and leaned up on her elbows, gazing around the room.  In the half-light afforded by the streetlamp outside, she could see Gene slouching in the room’s only chair, legs stretched out and crossed at the ankle. A half-full bottle of scotch resided on the table at his elbow and he held a glass holding a generous measure in the tips of his fingers. His head was tilted back on the headrest and his eyes were closed, lashes forming dark semi-circles against his cheeks. 

She sat up properly, trying to move without making a sound.

‘Didn’t mean to wake yer, Bolls.’

At the low growl of his voice, Alex narrowed her eyes, scrutinising him in greater detail. He hadn’t moved, had given no signal that he knew she’d awoken, but even in the semi-darkness of the room she could see the tension in him. 

‘Go back ter sleep, Bolly,’ he murmured, lifting his head and taking a gulp from the tumbler before sighing and letting his head fall back again, all without ever opening his eyes.

Alex took in his rumpled appearance, wondering how long he’d been gone. He was still wearing his coat over a shirt badly in need of an iron and his tie was pulled so loose he might as well have dispensed with it altogether. The top three buttons of his shirt were undone, exposing his upper chest. His hair – slightly too long, Mabel Stubbs had been right - was in stark disarray, reminding her forcibly of the night she’d returned from the Railway Arms to find him in his office in the middle of the night.  ‘Was it Sandra?’ she asked quietly, dreading the answer. 

His jaw tensed and his lips moved into a pout for a moment, before relaxing. ‘No. Another girl. Fifteen years old. Some bastard stabbed her and left her in the canal.’

‘Oh, Gene…’

‘Notified her parents.’

‘You notified her parents? Shouldn’t DCI West –‘

‘Yeah well, Gaz was a bit worse for wear. Dad got a bit violent.’

Looking closely at him, she saw there was a scratch under his eye, as though someone wearing a ring had hit him. ‘Towards you?’

‘Understandable, Bolls. Don’t like to think what I'd do if it was me.’

She pushed the blankets away and swung her bare legs out of bed, padding over to him and lightly running her fingers through his hair, settling it back into place. ‘Come to bed, Gene.’

‘I’m all right here, Bolly. Besides, ‘s almost four.’

Alex climbed up until she was straddling his lap, the fabric of his coat coarse against the inside of her thighs. 

Gene’s eyes opened minutely and he regarded her from under his lashes. ‘What  _ are _ you up to, woman?’

She leaned forward and kissed him, running her tongue over his lips until he allowed her access. As they kissed, he reached out and deposited the tumbler on the side table before sliding his hands up under the shirt she’d stolen from his suitcase to wear to bed.  When they broke apart for air, Alex reached down between their bodies, fumbling with his belt buckle. 

‘Thought you wanted me to come to bed?’ he asked, sounding amused.

‘If Mohammed won’t come to the mountain…’ she glanced up at him as she moved her hands to his shirtfront.

‘Not really the time, love,’ he said tiredly, but making no move to stop her as she removed his tie and unbuttoned his shirt.  ‘Insatiable bloody woman,’ he muttered as she began to nuzzle at his jaw.

‘Do you want me to stop?’ she asked against his skin, nipping gently at his jaw.

He dropped his head back on the headrest, letting his eyes flutter closed as his hands skated up her sides, coming to rest over her breasts, weighing them in his palms.

As she moaned and writhed in his lap, he pushed his hands upwards, sliding the material of the shirt she wore backwards until her shoulders were bare. Moving with some urgency now, she stripped the shirt off so she was sitting naked in his lap.  He shifted as though to remove his coat but she put a hand on his chest, stilling him. He looked at her quizzically. 

‘Leave it on,’ she murmured, shifting backwards slightly and reaching for his fly. 

‘Blimey, Bolls. You tryin’ ter give me a heart attack or somethin’?’

‘You need to relax, Gene.’

‘Can’t say as what you seem to be plannin’ is likely to relax me, Bolly,’ he growled, leaning forward to bite down on her shoulder. ‘Not at first, anyway.’

*

_ A church. It was some kind of church. Sam Tyler was walking with an Asian man who looked as though he’d been through the wars.  _

_ Gene’s voice rang out, echoing through the church. ‘What the bloody hell are you doing here?’ _

_ ‘What the bloody hell are  _ ** _you _ ** _ doing here?’ Sam shot back, clearly furious with Gene.  _

_ ‘I'm eliminating the drug problem in the only way I know I can.’ _

_ ‘Oh, so this is the way we do it now, is it? We let our mate Toolbox kill him, and then we all go out for a nice curry?’ _

_ The heavyset man behind Sam spoke up and Alex watched annoyance flash across Sam’s features. ‘Good idea. I could murder an Indian.’ _

_ ‘If you do this,’ Sam said, desperately trying to talk Gene down. ‘There's no turning back. You know that, don't you? When you look in the mirror, there'll be a different man looking out at you.’ _

_ ‘I've become that man already,’ Gene snarled. ‘I've had to be. So that people 'round here can live their lives without worrying about the bastards pushing drugs at our families. Ruining lives.’ _

_ ‘Okay. If you're that man—' he picked up a hammer and waved it at Gene ‘You kill him. Go on. If you're that man, you don't need anyone else. Here. You do it.’ _

_ Alex watched as Gene took the hammer, piercing gaze holding Sam’s. He hesitated a moment, considering it, and Alex thought about what Sam had said about Gene’s brother. What Mabel had said. Suddenly Gene threw the hammer away, frustration and anger warring in his features as he turned and stalked out of the church.  _

As the scene faded, Alex became aware of bodiless voices. 

_ ‘Stu? Wake up. It’s Gene.’ _

_ ‘Genie?’ _

_ ‘’s right. I’ve come to take you in, Stuie. I’ve got to.’ _

_ ‘My brother the copper.’ _

_ ‘Oh, Stuie. Why’d you have to be ‘ere? Why now?’ _

_ ‘Doesn’ matter, Gene. Won’t make it anywhere near your nick.’ _

* 

When Alex woke up again it was light outside. For a moment, the words of her dream echoed in her mind. Gene’s voice with its slightly desperate tone giving her an unsettling feeling quite at odds with the pleasant ache still in evidence in her muscles.  Rolling over onto her other side to look for the man responsible for both feelings, she saw the other half of the bed was empty. Gene must be in the shower. 

She sat up, retrieving the blanket from the bottom of the bed where the combined efforts of herself and Gene had banished it a few hours ago. Rising, she wrapped it around herself and moved over the en-suite door. 

‘Gene?’ she called, knocking loudly.

‘What?’ he shouted back.

‘Shall I order breakfast?’

‘What?’ he responded, sounding exasperated at her continued attempts to shout over the shower. 

‘Breakfast!’

‘Hold up a minute,’ he shouted. 

She heard the water stop running and moments later he pulled the door open, standing just inside the bathroom with a towel slung around his hips, rubbing his hair with another.

‘I asked if you wanted me to order breakfast,’ she said.

‘No time, Bolly. ‘op in the shower and we’ll grab summat on the way in.’ As she moved past him, he reached out and slapped her on the behind, making her let out a squeal she was entirely ashamed of. ‘Good girl,’ he said, smirking as she slammed the bathroom door. 

When she re-emerged from the en-suite, Gene was just finishing buttoning his shirt. She flicked her eyes over him, taking him in from the still-wet tips of his hair to his bare toes, wriggling in the carpet as he whistled tunelessly to himself.

She moved towards her suitcase and extracted a pair of jeans along with her underwear.

‘You ‘ad a chance to look at this yet?’ Gene asked, holding up Sandra Larkin’s diary.

‘I had a quick look through,’ she said, sitting down on the bed and smirking as she saw his gaze switch from the small book to her legs. 

He flicked through the diary. ‘Who’s this Michael?’

‘Her brother,’ Alex said.

He shook his head. ‘Her brother's Mikey.’

‘It’s the same name.’

‘Thank you DI-State-the-Bloody-Obvious. But she always calls him Mikey. Look.’

He held out the book and she walked over to him, hitching the towel up as she moved. She took the book from him and paged through it. ‘How did you spot that and I didn't?’ she asked.

‘Don’t let it worry you Bolls,’ he said, turning back to the mirror, picking up his tie from the dressing table and looping it around his neck. ‘You were obviously distracted by my masculine presence.’ He glanced up and caught the worried look on her face. ‘Oh for God's sake, woman. Stop worryin’. 's not like I have a bloody hissy fit every time you spot something I don't.’

‘You’d never be stopping,’ she murmured, flicking through the book.

‘Charming,’ he said, narrowing his eyes at her in the mirror. ‘Try to cheer a bird up and get abuse. Typical.’

She looked up at him. ‘I think you're right, Guv.

‘Do me a favour and don't call me Guv when you’re dressed like that.’ She looked down at her body, wrapped only in a towel. ‘Makes it ‘ard to concentrate.’

She rolled her eyes. ‘As I was saying, I think you're right. It’s a different person.’

He nodded. ‘We’ll get Gaz’s lot onto it when we get to the station.’ He moved to the bed and sat down, reaching for his socks. 

‘You’re capable of some highly perceptive psychological insights when you want to be,’ she observed, watching him.

‘Don’t go getting yer expensive unmentionables in a twist, Bolls. You’re still a valued member of the team.’

‘I can’t,’ she said.

‘What’s that?’ he asked, glancing up at her, a lock of slightly damp hair falling over his forehead.

‘Get my unmentionables in a twist,’ she supplied. ‘Not wearing any... _Guv_.’

He narrowed his eyes at her. ‘Right. That’s it.’ He stood and moved to stand in front of her, her lack of shoes meaning he was towering over her. He grabbed the corner of her towel and tugged, running his eyes down her body as the blanket fell to the floor. 

‘We’re going to be late to the station,’ she warned, shivering slightly as his fingertips trailed over the flesh just above her hip. 

‘No one to blame but yourself, Bolly,’ he growled, dropping his face to her neck.

*

When they strode into CID they found most of the officers there manfully engaged in a lively discussion around one of the desks. 

‘Hey up,’ Gene muttered. ‘Look who it is.’

Alex followed his gaze and saw Simon sitting at a desk, his head in his hands. 

Gene moved silently over to the desk and brought his hands down hard on the surface. ‘Sergeant!’

Simon’s head jerked upwards, his skin an unmistakable shade of grey. ‘Guv.’

‘Hungover, Simon? Tut tut.’

‘Sorry, Guv,’ Simon said, looking as though he was trying not to throw up.

‘Here,’ Gene said, reaching into his jacket pocket and extracting a hipflask. ‘Hair o’ the dog. Have a nip o’ that and get yer arse down to the canteen for a bacon butty to go.’ As Simon shuffled off, clutching the hipflask tightly, Gene turned to the rest of the room, all of whom looked amused at his treatment of the DS. ‘You lot, your DCI in?’

‘In your office, Guv,’ one of the officers said. ‘ _ His _ office,’ he corrected hurriedly. 

Gene merely nodded and stalked over to the office, Alex just behind him.  ‘Mornin’, Gaz,’ Gene said loudly.

Gary West sat up, swinging his legs down from the desk and looking momentarily guilty before presumably remembering he was in his own office. ‘Gene,’ he greeted. ‘Modest entrance as ever. What can I do you for?’

‘I’ll be heading out with DS Tremaine to look for that bastard Carson in about ten minutes. DI Drake here has ‘ad a look through Sandra Larkin’s diary so she’s going to talk your officers through one of her psychological profiles. She does go on a bit but try to stay awake, you might learn something.’

Alex sent him a brief disparaging look, which he completely ignored before turning and sweeping out of the room. 

DCI West smiled at her. ‘Right. S’pose we better get cracking. I’ll round up the troops.’

*

‘Sandra Larkin,’ Alex said, addressing the decidedly hungover members of CID. ‘Thirteen years old. By all accounts a good girl. What else do we know about her?’

‘Dad’s an alkie,’ one of the officers volunteered.

‘Mother works to top up the housekeeping,’ West said. ‘Brother’s a druggie.’

‘Good,’ Alex said, turning to the flipchart she’d erected in the corner of the room and writing down the family structure. ‘Her diary refers to someone called Michael,’ she said, ignoring the surge of annoyance that Gene had spotted the discrepancy first. ‘Not her brother, she always refers to him as Mikey. Anyone know of any other Michaels in her life?’ When no answer was forthcoming, s he turned back to find a sea of blank faces. ‘Who have you questioned?’ she asked.

‘Family, teachers at the school, neighbours. Some of the girls she went to school with.

‘Did she go to a girls’ school?’ Alex asked, leaning forwards and flicking through her notepad. ‘I thought it was mixed…’

‘It was,’ West confirmed. 

‘Did you not question any of the boys?’

‘Didn’t think there was much point,’ one of the other officers said. DC Kershaw, Alex remembered. 

‘Why not?’ she asked. 

‘Well, at her age…’

‘She had a brother. An older brother. It’s safe to assume she was probably quite comfortable with boys.’ 

‘Right, Kershaw and Hanworth,’ West said, rising and turning to glare at the rest of the room. ‘I want you down at the school, question the boys this time.’ DC Kershaw and a young WDC stood and headed for the door. West turned back to Alex. ‘What now?’

She recapped the marker she’d been using to write on the flipchart. ‘I’d like to borrow a car, please. I want to have another chat with Sandra’s mother if possible.’

‘I’ll come with you.’

‘I’d like to try it on my own, if that’s all right?’

West nodded. ‘Woman to woman, eh? Good plan. See the front desk. We’ll follow up on this ‘Michael’ lead and on the girl from last night.’


	5. Chapter Five

Alex smiled as Kitty Larkin handed her a cup of tea and took a seat opposite her. ‘Thank you.’

‘I told DCI Hunt and DCI West everything,’ Kitty said. 

‘I’m a psychologist and part of my job is to establish a profile that often helps us solve cases.’

‘Of the criminals you mean?’

‘Not just criminals. Sometimes it can help to have an idea of the psychological makeup of the victim at the time.’

‘Victim,' Kitty repeated. 'You mean our Sandra.’

Alex gave her a sympathetic look. ‘I just had a few questions I wanted to ask if that’s all right.’

‘If it’ll help find her I’ll do anything,’ Kitty said.

‘You remember we took away Sandra’s diary yesterday?’ The other woman nodded. ‘Have you ever read it?’

‘No. Like I said, she were a good girl, DI Drake. _ Is _ a good girl. Never felt the need to intrude on ‘er private thoughts.’

‘Of course not,’ Alex said gently. ‘Aside from her brother, did Sandra know anyone called Michael?’

Kitty looked thoughtful. ‘Not that I remember,’ she said. ‘She had lots of friends though.’

‘A boyfriend? Brother of a friend?’ Kitty shook her head. ‘What about your son? Did he have any friends called Michael?’

Kitty shook her head again, her expression becoming drawn. ‘Our Mikey didn’t have many friends we knew of. And none as were allowed in the house.’

‘How did Sandra seem before she disappeared?’

‘She didn’t run away, DI Drake.’

‘I know, but one of your neighbours said she saw your son here, the night Sandra disappeared and I was wondering whether you knew she had been in contact with him recently.’

‘Mikey was here?’ Alex nodded, wondering why Mabel hadn’t told her. ‘She was quieter,’ Kitty said thoughtfully. ‘Usually, she’d be talkin’ nineteen to the dozen. To me at least.’

‘What’s her relationship like with her brother?’

Kitty smiled, her eyes taking on a faraway look. ‘She loves her brother. ‘s like he’s her hero.’ Her smile faded. ‘Least he used to be.’ She took a sip of tea and Alex waited for her to speak again. ‘You’re wonderin’ what her relationship’s like with her father. DCI West spoke to ‘im. Said he was asleep the night Sandra disappeared. Didn’t hear a bloody thing.’

There was the sound of keys in the front door and Kitty looked up. ‘That’ll be himself now.’ She looked back at Alex. ‘Would you mind – ‘ she widened her eyes pleadingly.

‘I’ll let myself out the back door,’ Alex said. ‘You could come to the station if –‘

‘Thanks, Inspector, but I better get his tea ready.’

Alex held her gaze for a moment before rising and heading into the kitchen, Kitty hot on her heels. Just as she pulled the door open the other woman laid a hand on her arm.

‘You will find her, won’t you Inspector? You and Mr Hunt. You’ll find my little girl and bring her home?’

Alex squeezed the other woman’s hand before turning and leaving the kitchen. She felt a complete coward but she’d been unable to speak in the face of the woman’s need to see her daughter again. The memory of the moment she’d realised she would never see Molly grow up was still too fresh, although even standing in the cold outside the Railway Arms it had been more a rising awareness of something she’d known for months, rather than a sudden realisation. 

She realised it hadn’t even occurred to her to correct the woman, to say it was DCI West’s case; they were just helping out. Shaking her head to clear it, she headed down the alley behind the terraced houses and back onto the street. As she approached the frankly terrible pool car she’d been assigned, she heard someone call her name. Looking up, she saw Mabel Stubbs heading towards her, shopping bags in hand. ‘Hello again,’ she greeted, smiling.

‘Morning, lovey,’ the older woman said. ‘Give us an ‘and with these would you?’ 

‘Of course,’ Alex said, reaching out and taking the shopping bags.

‘Eugene not with you?’ Mabel asked as she headed down the alley and towards the back of her own house.

‘He’s investigating another case with a colleague today.’

‘Got time fer a brew?’

‘Well I should –'

‘Course you ‘ave. Come on.’

At Mabel’s insistence, Alex sat at the kitchen table and watched the older woman bustle around the kitchen, putting the shopping away and making tea. ‘Struck a nerve with our Eugene yesterday, I’ll warrant. All that business about young Mikey Larkin.’

‘Because of his brother?’ Alex asked, fighting down the sudden resurgence of the voices from her dream.

Mabel nodded, drumming her fingers on the counter while she waited for the kettle to boil. ‘I didn’t want to say owt but I want that little girl found as much as anyone else down this street. More than some,’ she added darkly.

‘Who do you mean?’ Alex asked as the other woman carried the pot to the table and sat down.

‘That father of hers,’ Mabel said, shaking her head as she poured the tea. ‘I don’t like to speak ill of folk but he’s a bad apple. Doesn’t give two figs about his wife or his kids. That’s why their Mikey went to the bad. A boy needs a strong father figure if he’s to make a go o’ this life. Mikey didn’t ‘ave one.’

‘Like Gene’s brother.’

The older woman nodded. ‘I’ve often thought Eugene only turned out like he did because he had Stuart to fight for. Always looking after his brother ‘e was. Hated to see ‘im picked on. P’raps that’s why ‘e wanted to be a police officer,’ she mused. Her gaze snapped to Alex, sweeping over her. ‘You strike me as someone who’s lookin’ for somethin’, Alex.’

‘I – ‘ Alex began, taken aback at the sudden change in tack. 

‘Who isn’t lookin’ for something though, eh? A safe place, the truth, answers.’ She lit a cigarette and blew smoke towards the ceiling before continuing, ‘You know, before I married Mr Stubbs, my married name was Morrison.’

‘Morrison?’

‘My Ronnie was in the force. Didn’t have a particularly glittering career, mind. Died of a heart attack when he were thirty-eight. Never made it out of uniform. But he took Eugene under his wing when he first started. Looked after him on his first week on the job.’

Alex remembered Gene’s voice, echoing slightly in her memory, although he’d been speaking in a monotone at the time. _'__B__ut he had Morrison to guide him. That was until somebody gave the old fella a nip of whisky, and before you know it he's hokey-cokeying with the locals. Young bobby's suddenly on his own.’ _

Mabel nodded, watching realisation dawn on Alex’s face. She leaned forward to pour more tea. ‘You’re thinkin’ my Ronnie should’ve been there when Eugene were shot.’

Alex opened her mouth but Mabel’s steady gaze killed the protest in her throat. ‘Do you know what happened?’ she murmured instead.

‘Ronnie got drunk,’ Mabel said simply. ‘Eugene disappeared off on his own. Turned up next morning, covered in blood. I gave my Ronnie such a tongue lashing for leavin’ him on his own. Him just a kid and Stuie having disappeared. Liza was beside herself. Not that he didn’t disappear enough on his own account,’ she added disapprovingly, although there was a glimmer of amusement in her eyes. ‘But this was different.’

‘Where was he… hurt?’ Alex asked, her mind conjuring images of the young PC Gene had been. Tall, lanky and silent, half his face an inescapable reminder of just what this world was.

‘They got ‘im in the leg. Dragged ‘imself back to the station.’

‘They got away,’ Alex said weakly, staring down into her teacup.

‘Not bloody likely,’ Mabel said sternly. Alex’s head shot up. ‘Arrested one of 'em. Killed the one with the gun. No choice.’ 

‘He killed him?’

‘Shot him. No idea where he got the gun, or why he had it.’

Alex blinked in surprise, realising she’d never considered what had happened when Gene woke up here. ‘But he was all right?’ she asked. ‘Gene was all right?'

‘As all right as you can be, after summat like that,’ Mabel said, sipping her tea. ‘As all right as you and me.’

* 

When Alex arrived back at the station, she found CID almost empty. She’d seen the Merc in the car park so she knew Gene and Simon had returned, but there was no sign of either man in the incident room.

Seeing the light on in West’s office she dropped her coat on the desk she’d been using – _ Sam’s desk _, she remembered – and headed over to the doors. She hesitated. If this were Gene’s office she’d have no problem just barging in as she always had done, but here she felt compelled to knock. To her surprise, West didn’t call out for her to enter, instead, he elected to open the door, peering out at her with a bemused expression. 

‘Very polite of you to knock, DI Drake.’

‘Yes, I thought you might not be used to that,’ she said, smiling brightly.

He stepped back and swept an arm out, inviting her in and following her as she made her way over to the desk. ‘Get anythin’ from the mother?’ 

‘Well, she has no idea who “Michael” could be,’ Alex said, making air quotes. She turned to address West and found him standing only inches behind her. ‘She doesn’t want to talk about her son,’ she added, looking up at him. She wanted to step away but the part of her that had worked with Gene Hunt for almost four years refused to be intimidated. ‘And she’s afraid of her husband.’

‘You know, _ I _ could’ve told you _ that _, Bolls.’ 

Alex jumped as Gene’s brash tone filled the room. He’d entered the office silently enough, but now she could sense him standing by the door. 

Gary West turned to face Gene. ‘All right, Gene? Catch your fella?’

‘Not yet,’ Gene said mildly, although Alex heard the bite of annoyance in his voice. ‘So is this a private party, or can anyone join in?’

She stepped to the side slightly to distance herself from West. ‘I spoke with Sandra Larkin’s mother.’

‘I heard.’

‘What happened with –‘

‘Going to question Harry the Hand again. I want you to sit in.’ 

He held the door open, waiting for Alex to precede him out of the office. As they walked towards Lost and Found, Alex glanced up at him out of the corner of her eye. 

‘That man makes my skin crawl.’

‘Gaz? He’s all right, Bolly.’

‘He’s a bloody perv, Gene.’

He smirked. ‘Smile and be nice, Bolly, and I won't ask what you were doin’ alone with ‘im in his office when you know what these northern coppers’re like.’

‘And what exactly _ are _ they like, Guv?’ she asked, trying to keep her face straight.

He looked down at her, his eyes glittering but his expression otherwise impassive. ‘Can't resist tryin’ ter corrupt a bit of posh southern skirt,’ he said, shoving the door to Lost and Found open before she had the chance to respond.

Alex followed Gene into a dusty room filled with abandoned items. She paused in the doorway, realising the room was probably just as Sam had found it. Ahead of her, Gene stalked around a shelving unit and approached the room’s only other occupant, lounging in a chair as though he felt right at home.

‘You’ve been giving us dodgy information, Harry,’ Gene said, pulling out a chair and sitting down. ‘You know that’s not good for my temper.’

‘Not too worried about your temper, if I’m honest, Mr Hunt. Where’s your young officer, then? Not brought ‘im with you this time?’

‘Nope. Brought someone much worse. Bolly!’

Alex hurried around the shelving unit, heels clicking against the cement floor.

‘Things’re lookin’ up I see,’ Harry the Hand said, sweeping his eyes over Alex as she sat down. ‘You didn’t ‘ave to bring me a bird, Mr Hunt. I’ll be out soon. Mind you, don’t think I know many birds as classy as you darlin’.’

‘Come off it, Harry. You don’t know any birds at all. We all know how you really got your nickname,’ Gene said. 

And indeed, watching Harry closely, Alex saw his body language was at odds with his words. He shifted in his chair, sitting up straighter as his mouth set in a line, his eyes flicking distrustfully from Gene to Alex and back again.

‘We want to know where your mate Carson is.’

‘I told you, yesterday, I ‘aven’t seen him and I don’t know.’

‘I think you do. You two used to pal around quite a bit in the old days. I think he came up here to see you. His mother’s dead, sister hasn’t spoken to him in _ years _. His missus’d shop ‘im the minute she clapped eyes on him.’

‘So we’re mates. Don’t prove nothin’.’

‘We know you know where he is, Harry,’ Alex said. ‘The sooner you tell us, the sooner we can leave you in peace.’

Harry shifted in his seat again and looked down at his hands, his neck flushing with rage and embarrassment. ‘I don’t know nothin’ about that London job.’

‘What about David Benson?’ Alex asked. ‘Do you know anything about him?’

Harry resolutely refused to look at her. ‘Who’s that then?’ 

Alex opened her mouth to speak but Gene got there first. ‘Davy Benson is the son of the owners of the shop your mate turned over.’

‘He lost an eye,’ Alex said, watching as Harry turned an even deeper shade of purple. ‘And he might never walk again. He’s eight.’

‘I don’t –‘ Harry began, trailing off and lifting his head to glare at Gene.

Gene held his gaze for a moment before rising from his seat. ‘Right then, no sense keepin’ you in ‘ere. I’ll ‘ave you taken back to the cells. Spot of lunch, DI Drake?’

Following Gene’s lead, Alex rose preceded him out of the room. 

Gene pulled the door closed and extracted his cigarettes from his pocket, shouting ‘Cells!’ over his shoulder as he put a cigarette to his lips and lit it. ‘What d’you reckon?’

‘He has a problem with women,’ Alex said. Gene nodded. ‘What was all that about David Benson?’

Gene didn’t answer immediately, merely turned and headed towards the station entrance, pausing by the front desk. As they started to walk down the stairs to the front desk he said, ‘You were right, Harry’s ‘opeless with women. But he’s got a little brother. ‘is mam don’t let him see him o’course. Terrifying woman,’ he added, in the tone of someone who had met her. ‘But Harry doesn’t like to hear about bad things happenin’ to kids. He _ really _ doesn’t like it.’

‘You wanted me there to put him on the back foot so you could see his reaction,’ Alex realised. 

‘That, and I wanted you away from Gaz.’

Alex smirked. ‘Where’s Simon?’

‘I’ve got him lying in wait,’ Gene said. He approached the desk. ‘Right. Cell three, Harry Carr. Let ‘im out.’

‘Yes, Guv,’ the desk sergeant said, sliding the paperwork across the desk. 

Gene signed it and shoved it back across the desk. ‘Give us your radio.’ The man handed Gene a radio and Gene brought it to his mouth. ‘DS Tremaine, come in.’

‘Guv?’ Simon’s voice came through the radio, crackling slightly.

‘Harry’s on his way out. Your team in position? I don’t want this bastard getting away.’

‘No problem. We’re ready for him, Guv.’

‘Good work. Call me when you’ve got something.’ He handed the radio back to the sergeant and turned to Alex. ‘Come on. You can buy me a drink.’

*

They were standing at the bar in the Railway Arms, Gene nursing a pint and Alex picking at the pie she’d been served. 

Gene glanced over at her. ‘Are you eating that bloody pie or giving it a post-mortem?’ 

‘I’m just thinking,’ Alex said. ‘Kitty Larkin.’

‘What about her?’ Gene asked, taking a gulp of his beer.

‘She said _ said _.’

Gene sighed and looked down at her. ‘Knew it was only a matter of time before you started talking in bloody riddles again. I’ve had a long day, Bolls, and it’s only bloody lunchtime. I know it’s a lot to ask, but I’d consider it a personal favour if you could talk sense for ten minutes together.’

‘Sorry, Guv,’ Alex said, still distracted. ‘When Kitty was talking about her husband, she said he _ said _ that he was asleep. She made a point of phrasing it like that.’

‘Did you speak to the ‘usband?’ Gene asked thoughtfully. 

‘No. You?’

‘No,’ he said, pouting. ‘Might be time to ask Gaz to ‘ave a word with Mr Larkin.’

‘I spoke to Mabel Stubbs today,’ Alex said.

‘Did you now? Inseparable, you two.’

Alex paused, wondering how to broach the subject of her discussion with Mabel. Just as she’d plucked up the courage Gene’s radio crackled from his pocket.

He drew it out. ‘Hunt, what?’

‘Guv,’ Simon’s voice came through. ‘Um…’

‘Out with it, Simple Simon, I’m havin’ a lunchtime beverage with DI Drake.’

‘We um…’

‘Don’t tell me you bloody lost him.’

‘Yeah. We did.’

Gene slammed his pint glass down on the bar. ‘You useless bunch of twats. How did you manage to lose him?’

‘Guv,’ Alex said, laying a hand on his arm. 

He shook her off. ‘Never mind. You can tell me back at the station. Get your useless arse back here in ten minutes or hand your bloody warrant card in.’ He clicked the radio off and looked at Alex. ‘Come on, Bolls. You can bring your pie.’

‘No, thanks.’

‘Tut tut, Bolly. Waste not, want not,’ he said, snagging it as he headed for the door.


	6. Chapter Six

Gene stormed into CID, having finished his stolen pie en route to the station and set his features in a scowl. Even after all this time, Alex was impressed at the speed of the change that came over him as he stalked through the smoky station.  Usually, she would purposefully lengthen her stride so she could keep pace with him, but now she found herself hanging back, watching him move ahead of her. The longer they stayed in Manchester the more aware she became of herself watching him. She liked to think she read him better than anyone, but there were still times she'd look at him and have no idea what was going on behind his eyes.

Unfortunately, this wasn't one of those times. She could see he was going to tear Simon to  _ shreds _ . The coppers scattered around CID knew it too, could see the threat written in every line of Gene's body.

'Tremaine,' Gene snapped. 'A word.'

Simon looked at Alex, concern marring his features. She shrugged and they followed Gene into Gary West's office. The DCI had obviously gone out to lunch and Gene perched on the edge of his desk, crossing his legs and folding his arms.

'I can explain, Guv,' Simon said, spreading his hands out protectively.

Gene pouted. 'I'm all ears.'

Alex leaned against a filing cabinet and sent Simon a reassuring look when he glanced at her. He turned back to face Gene and Alex ducked her head to hide a smirk at the momentary flash of annoyance her DCI sent her.

'We were following Harry, like you said. He went home, to the pub, down to the corner shop. He didn't go anywhere suspicious, didn't really talk to anyone. I needed a… well…'

'A what?'

'A comfort break,' Simon said, dropping his head in embarrassment.

Alex winced as she saw that sink in with Gene. He stood, pushing away from the desk and standing upright, shoving his hands into his trouser pockets. Alex saw the younger man shrink into himself slightly.

'You let our best lead get away,' Gene said, his voice completely neutral. 'Because you needed a slash.'

'I didn't… DC Cooper was watching him!' Simon said, starting to sound slightly panicked.

' _ DC Cooper _ is not a member of my team. And neither will you be at this rate.'

'But he  _ was _ watching him, Guv.'

'Then what the bloody hell happened, Tremaine?' Gene snapped, coming to a stop just in front of Simon and staring down at him.

'He did meet a man,' Simon said, manfully holding his ground. 'In a side alley by the Horse and Groom.'

'Who?'

'I don't know – but he gave him something. Money, I think.'

'So you followed him,' Alex said quietly.

'We followed him. Cooper thought we should.'

'And what did you think?'

'I agreed. He looked shifty, it seemed like a deal of some kind.'

'You really are bloody simple.' Gene snapped, allowing his annoyance to show plainly in his voice. 'Do you really think Harry bloody Carr is in the position to order people about?'

'I don't know!'

Gene shoved him, knocking him into a filing cabinet. 'Think,' he snapped his fingers beside his head, intensifying the glare he'd trained on Simon. 'What does that tell you?'

'No, Guv.'

'No, Guv,' Gene repeated. 'He met that bloke to throw you off the scent. Now I want you to get out there and bloody find 'im. Look all night if you 'ave to. I don't want to hear a word from you until you're lookin' at the back of his head.' Gene turned away from Simon, effectively dismissing him.

'I radioed DCI West and he gave us the go-ahead.'

Gene spun again, coat whirling around his legs. 'He did what?'

'We couldn't get you on the radio, so we radioed through to DCI West. He told us to go after the other fella.'

'You come to _me_, Simon,' Gene said.' Not to him. Not to anyone else. Do you understand me?'

Simon pulled himself up to his full height, still a couple of inches shy of Gene, and glared up at his DCI. 'We couldn't get hold of you. DCI West answered. He said you were probably off with…' he broke off, glancing guiltily over at Alex. 'You can't dictate who I talk to, Guv.'

'That's where you're wrong. I am your DCI and my word is bloody law. Now get out there and find me Harry Carr.'

Simon stared at him for a moment longer, then ducked his head and left the office, shoving the door with enough force that it hit the desk outside.

'Oi!' Gene shouted after him. 'Make sure you visit the little boys' room before you go!' He turned away from Simon's retreating back only to be confronted by Alex's narrowed eyes. 'Oh, bloody hell. What?'

'Nothing,' she said, raising her eyebrows. 'Bit too much male posturing for me.'

'Don't start wi' me, Bolls. Surprised you haven't gone runnin' after 'im.'

'Don't you think you were a little hard on him?'

'He endangered the case.'

'Oh, come on, Gene,' she said, moving to stand just in front of him. 'You're just annoyed he spoke to DCI West.'

He looked down at her. 'He needs to keep his 'ead in the game. He's got a job to do here and I expect him to do it. He seems to 'ave trouble rememberin' it's important.'

Alex looked at him. 'Do you know something?'

He narrowed his eyes at her. 'I know lots of things, Bolly,' he said quietly.

'Gene – '

Gene rolled his eyes, moving away from her and fishing in his pocket for his hipflask. He took a healthy swig before speaking. 'I know there's a little boy down in London who might never wake up. That good enough for you?' He paused, appraising her with cool blue eyes. 'He has to work it out fer 'imself, Alex. Same as you and same as Sam. Even if I 'ave to break 'is nose to show 'im.'

'Show him what?'

They turned to see DCI West standing in the doorway.

'Internal staff problem. Nothing to worry yerself about, Gaz.'

'This _ is _ my station, Gene,' the other man said. 'My office, in point of fact.'

Gene kept his gaze trained on West as he lit a cigarette. 'You weren't in it,' he said, moving past West and exiting the room.

'I can't be everywhere. I'm not you,' Gaz said softly, speaking to himself.

Alex opened her mouth to say something comforting, but was cut off by Gene's shouted summons.

'Bolly!'

Alex offered Gaz a sympathetic look before heading for the incident room. Gene was standing by the door to the corridor, holding it open.

'Get a wriggle on, woman.'

She hurried across the room, the sound of her heels muffled by the god-awful floor tiles. 'Where are we going?'

'I'm pulling Mr Larkin in,' he said, preceding her out of the incident room and heading for the lift.

'Sandra's father?'

'The one and only.'

'Why?'

'Summat you said, actually,' he said, jabbing the button for the lift with slightly more force than she felt was necessary. 'About his wife not believing he was asleep.'

'Shouldn't we be looking for Carson?'

Gene looked at her. 'I've got half the GMP out lookin' fer 'im. Plus, Tremaine's going to be keeping his eyes glued to the street now I've 'ad a quiet word. Oh for Christ's sake!' He glared at the lift doors, the lift still having failed to arrive.

'Maybe it's trying to tell you something, Guv.'

'You saying I need to get some exercise, Bolls?'

'Wouldn't dream of it.'

'Good. Cos as you know there's only one form of exercise I'm interested in and clocking off time's a long way off yet.' He narrowed his eyes at her and turned, heading for the stairwell.

Alex smirked to herself and made to follow him, when suddenly the lights in the corridor, never particularly illuminating, seemed to stutter and dim. She looked up in alarm; the corridor ahead was completely empty.

'Oh here we go,' she muttered. She heard the lift arrive behind her and turned, jumping as she realised Gene was standing directly behind her. But not  _ her _ Gene, she realised.

The Gene in front of her was dressed in a black suit, nothing new there, but it was cut differently, the fabric was wrong.  _ He _ was wrong, too. His whole stance was quite unlike him, as though he was trying to somehow make himself small.  The lift doors opened, revealing Sam Tyler, engrossed in a file folder. Alex watched Gene's back and shoulders square as he pulled himself upright. Sam glanced up, his eyes widening as he took in Gene's clothes.

'Hot date?' he said, moving around Gene as the larger man strode into the lift.

'Mind yer own business, Gladys.' Gene leaned forwards to hit the button for the ground floor but Sam stepped forwards, holding the lift door open.

'Seriously Gene, where are you going?'

'Out.'

'Dressed like that?'

Now that Gene was facing her, Alex found herself unable to stop looking at him. It was strange to see him like this. Younger, undoubtedly, but clearly not happy. He looked weighed down today, and although a close inspection of his features did reveal the hint of a hangover, she didn't think that was it.

'What are you, my mother?'

Sam grinned. 'No thanks. I've met your mum.'

Gene didn't respond the humour in any way and Sam narrowed his eyes. 'Oh,' he said, realisation apparently dawning. 'I'm sorry, Gene. I forgot.'

'No you didn't, Gladys. I didn't tell you.'

'Let me drop this lot off and I'll come with you,' Sam said, nodding his head back towards CID.

'It's all right, Sam. Rather do this on me own.'

'Gene – '

'Boss!'

Alex turned at the sound of Chris's voice, but the corridor behind her was swathed in darkness.

Sam, however, seemed to be able to see the young DC perfectly. 'With you in a minute, Chris.' He turned back to Gene. 'Guv –'

'Better get on, Sam, Harry'd kill me if I was late to 'is funeral.'

Sam held Gene's gaze for a moment, wordless communication passing between the two men. Then he stepped back and Alex rushed forwards, making it into the lift just as the doors closed.

As the lift started to move, rattling quite alarmingly, Alex stole a glance at Gene. He was leaning against the back wall of the lift, hands shoved into his trouser pockets, his head resting against the wall, eyes closed. His hair was longer, blonder than it was currently, falling over his forehead and almost into his eyes. Although he was nearly a decade younger he looked older, exhausted.

For a moment when he'd been speaking to Sam he'd regained some of his usual liveliness, but now he was alone he'd dropped the mask completely. She wanted to reach for him, but even if she could have touched him, she knew he wouldn't welcome it. Even now Gene would rather work through something like this on his own, wouldn't seek her out for comfort.

Not for the first time she found herself reflecting on what Mabel Stubbs had told her. About how Gene, alone in that remote farmhouse, had shot dead the man who had killed him. She wondered whether he'd remembered why he was here in then, or whether he'd responded to some subconscious prompting that day.

The lift stopped and Gene's eyes snapped open. 'Right,' he muttered as the lift doors opened. 'Let's get this over with.'

'Took the lift after all, I see.'

Alex started. Gene was standing outside the lift, regarding her with a mixture of amusement and exasperation. The Gene who had been standing beside her had disappeared completely.

'Well… ' She said, recovering. 'It's not as though I need the exercise is it?'

He swept his gaze over her appreciatively, pausing almost imperceptibly at her cleavage and her rear. 'Nope. And if you ever do, I'll be happy to demonstrate my exercise program.'

She narrowed her eyes at him, attempting to look stern although she knew he could see the amusement behind her expression.

'I've told Gaz to get his arse downstairs. He should be there if we bring Larkin in.'

'Do you really think that'll be necessary?'

'Depends if I like what he tells me, Bolly.'


	7. Chapter 7

DCI West’s voice sounded as they reached the station entrance. ‘Guv - _ Gene _ \- wait!’ 

Alex rolled her eyes as Gene refused to break stride, moving purposefully towards the station doors. She reached out and grabbed his coat, tugging gently but insistently. 

He turned, sparing her a glare before turning it on DCI West. ‘Joining us for a bit of light policin’ are you, Gaz?’

‘You really think Larkin’s involved?’ Gary asked, drawing in deep breaths as he reached them. 

‘No,’ Gene snapped, whirling and starting down the stairs. ‘I just fancied a chat.’

‘We think he may know more than he’s letting on,’ Alex supplied, sparing Gary an apologetic glance. For all that he gave her the creeps, she felt sorry for him. He was clearly lost with Gene here, torn between wanting to maintain his authority and needing help, and he’d been big enough to go for the latter.

When they reached the car Alex watched, slightly bemused, as Gary climbed into the passenger seat. 

Gene gave her a vaguely puzzled look over the roof. ‘Gaz,’ he said, leaning down to look into the car through the open driver’s door. ‘DI Drake usually sits –‘

‘It’s all right, Guv,’ Alex said brightly. ‘I’ll be fine in the back.’

Gene shrugged and wrapped his coat around himself before climbing into the driver’s seat. Alex barely managed to get the door closed before the Mercedes squealed out of the station car park. 

She hadn’t been surprised to discover that in Manchester Gene somehow managed to drive even faster than he did on the streets of London. She watched in amusement as DCI West grabbed the handle above the door when Gene tackled a corner with a particularly savage turn of the steering wheel.

Gene barely spared the other DCI a glance. ‘Gaz, make yourself useful. Get on the radio and secure a proper bloody interview room.’

‘You haven’t _ got _ a radio, have you, Gene? Left the station in a hurry,’ he said, his knuckles paling as Gene took another particularly sharp corner. 

‘Glovebox,’ Gene said shortly.

West leaned forward and opened the glove box. ‘Erm… Gene?’ he said. Alex watched in horror as he extracted a familiar scrap of black lace from the glove box.

Gene reached out and snatched the lace from West’s hand. ‘Was lookin’ fer that,’ he said, not taking his eyes from the road as he stuffed it into his inside pocket. 

Alex ducked her head, feeling her cheeks begin to burn with embarrassment.

‘Things‘re good in London on the bird front then, I take it?’ West said, sounding amused as he leaned down to root through the glove box again.

Gene smirked, catching Alex’s eye in the rearview mirror. ‘Could say that, Gaz.’

‘You got a couple on the go then?’

‘None of your bloody business,’ Gene said mildly. ‘You found that radio yet or are you just feelin’ up the Merc?’

West held up the radio triumphantly before raising it to his lips. ‘Alpha One this is Eight-Seven-Zero. Receiving?’ 

Gene glanced over at him. ‘Not enough you took my bloody office, Gaz? ‘ad to take my number as well?’

West ignored him. ‘Alpha One, can you reserve interview one for DCI Hunt?’ Once he received an affirmative response he tucked the radio away in his jacket. ‘What makes you think Larkin knows something? He’s just a drunk.’

‘His wife,’ Alex said. ‘And their neighbour thinks he knows more than he’s letting on.’

‘My lads interviewed him,’ Gaz said. ‘Nothin’ to suggest he were hiding something.’

‘Maybe they weren’t asking the right questions,’ Gene said grimly, pulling the car to a stop outside the Larkins’ house.

‘Mrs Larkin,’ Gaz said when the door was opened. ‘Your husband in?’

‘He’s just leaving to go back to work after his dinner,’ Mrs Larkin said, stepping aside to allow her husband to pass.

‘Mr Larkin,’ Gene began, only to pause when Alex laid a hand on his arm. ‘What?’ Alex said nothing, merely widened her eyes in Mrs Larkin’s direction. Gene rolled his own in response and sighed. ‘Would you accompany us to the station? We’d like you to assist in our enquiries.’’

*

Mr Larkin was truculent and had turned hostile fairly quickly. Alex had been prepared for him to be difficult, his silence on the drive over had told her that much, but the man seemed to be being willfully obtuse. It wasn’t an attitude designed to bring out the best in Gene and after a full ninety minutes of this, she could see he was starting to lose the little patience he had.

‘I think you know just where your daughter is, don’t you, Mr Larkin?’ Gaz said, eyeing the man across the table as Gene paced behind him.

‘If I did I’d bloody tell you!’

‘See, I don’t think you would,’ Gene said, leaning down and pressing his hands against the table, commanding the man’s attention. ‘I think you know where she is, where she’s been this whole time and I think you’re lying through what’s left of your teeth about it.’

‘Guv – ‘ Alex began, leaning forwards.

Gene ignored her. ‘What I can’t for the life of me work out, is why. See, while you’re pissin’ us about your little girl’s out there on ‘er own.’

‘You don’t scare me, Mr Hunt,’ the man sneered. ‘I remember you, back in ‘75. Terrifyin’ bastard you were.’ He held Gene’s gaze. ‘Not anymore though, eh? South’s turned you soft.’

Gene straightened. ‘Is that right?’ he snapped. He shoved the table to the side and dragged the man up, holding him almost six inches from the floor. 

‘Gene!’ Alex snapped, aghast.

‘She’s a thirteen-year-old kid. Your own daughter. I know you know somethin’. Now you listen to me. DI Drake's about to get ‘er expensive French knickers in a twist, thinks I’m being too hard on yer, seeing as you’re the victim here. Only you’re not. I know when someone’s not bein’ straight with me and you, my friend, are as bent as a bloody fishhook. I note your lady wife didn’t make a fuss when I brought you in. Glad to see the back of yer.’

‘I don’t bloody know where she is, I swear it!’

‘It really would be easier if you’d answer our questions, Mr Larkin,’ Alex said. ‘We know your son came to the house that night.’

‘It weren’t my son, It weren't our Mikey.' 

‘Bollocks,’ Gene snapped, dropping the man to the ground. ‘You’re lying and I’m about three seconds away from-'’

‘It wasn’t him.' Mr Larkin said quickly, pulling himself into an upright position. 'A lad came to the house but it wasn’t Mikey.’

Gene glanced at Alex, eyebrows raised. 

‘‘Addiction can change a person,’ Alex said reasonably. ‘Perhaps he-’

‘You're not listening. It wasn't my son, it was some other kid. Came in, took Sandra away with him.’

‘Against her will?’ Gaz asked.

‘No. She went of her own accord. that part weren't made up.’ 

‘Does your wife know?’

‘No. Kitty believes she were taken.’

‘The broken glass…’ Alex said quietly.

‘I did that. So the wife wouldn't cotton on.’

‘Why?’ Gaz asked.

‘Sandra… She threatened to tell the missus if I said she'd gone wi' that lad.'

‘Threatened to tell her what?’ Alex asked.

‘I lost me job. Turned up a bit the worse for wear a few too many times.' Gene stepped forwards menacingly and Mr Larkin held his hands up. 'An' I’ve been carrying on with ‘er over the road.’ 

‘So you let us believe your daughter had been kidnapped?’ Alex said, disbelieving.

‘I thought you lot would bring her back, like. No ‘arm done.’ 

‘What did he look like?’ Gaz said. When Mr Larkin looked blank he added, ‘The man you let your daughter leave with. What did he look like?”

‘Weren’t a _ man _,’ Mr Larkin said, picking himself up and sitting back in his chair. ‘What do you take me for?’ When Gaz only glared in response he went on. ‘About your height,' he nodded at Gene. 'Dark hair. About our Mikey’s age. Looked like one of the lads he was hangin’ around with last I saw him.’

Gene regarded him intensely for a moment, holding the man’s gaze and making him squirm. 'You're free to go, Mr Larkin,' Gene said quietly, turning on his heel and leaving the room. 

Alex exchanged a glance with DCI West and hurried after him. 'Gene-'

'Girl's run off, Alex. This isn't a case for CID.'

'She's _ thirteen, _Guv! And we only have his word for any of it!’ 

Gene rounded on her. 'You think he was lyin'?'

'No, but she's still a child. We can't just leave her out there!'

'Of course we can’t,’ Gene said, softening slightly. ‘Plod'll keep looking and Gaz’s lot are more than capable. You and me, Bolly, have a case of our own. Something we need to get back to, judging by Simple Simon’s lack of bloody progress so far.’

‘Her brother’s twenty-two, Gene. An adult.’

‘So?’

‘_So _ Mr Larkin said the boy who took her was the same age. Not a boy. A _ man_,’ she added, in case he’d not seen her point. 

‘What do you want me to do, Bolls?’

‘Stay with this,’ she said, adding, ‘please?’ when he still looked unconvinced. 

‘We need to find Carson. In case you’d forgotten, DI Drake, he’s the reason for this little trip up north.’

‘I hadn’t forgotten, Gene, I just think this little girl’s in trouble and we should help.’ Gene dropped his gaze for a moment and she allowed a slight smile to overtake her face, knowing she had him. ‘Spend one more day on it?’

‘No,’ Gene said firmly. 

‘Please, Gene?’

Gene narrowed his eyes at her. ‘Don't flutter your eyelashes at me, Bolls, I don't like it.’ 

‘Well, that's bollocks for a start, Guv.’

He sighed, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. ‘I’m going to look for Carson. If you want to spend more time on this be my guest, Madam Fruitcake.’

‘Divide and conquer?’ she said, offering him a smile.

‘If you like, Bolls. But I’m warning you,’ he said, pushing away from the wall and heading off down the corridor. ‘I find our man, I go back to London. With or without you.’


End file.
